


Visions of Delight

by Sass_Master



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 14:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21562777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sass_Master/pseuds/Sass_Master
Summary: Dean’s used to waking up in the middle of the night, though he can admit that’s gotten a lot rarer since he started sleeping with Cas, both in the literal and metaphorical sense.For a second, he worries that something is wrong, but before that thought can fully form, he registers the feeling of Cas pressed flush against his back, one protective hand splayed on his hip, not resting soundly but grinding against Dean with slow, deliberate rocking motions, fingers clenching, bunching the fabric of Dean’s sweatpants in a firm grip.Dean isn’t complaining one bit about the proceedings. He just wants Cas to be, y’know,conscious.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 29
Kudos: 608
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Visions of Delight

It’s never easy to tell exactly what time it is, living in an underground bunker, but the clock next to Dean’s side of the bed tells him that it’s 4:07 a.m. – way fucking earlier than it should be.

Dean’s used to waking up in the middle of the night, though he can admit that’s gotten a lot rarer since he started sleeping with Cas, both in the literal and metaphorical sense.

For a second, he worries that something is wrong, but before that thought can fully form, he registers the feeling of Cas pressed flush against his back, one protective hand splayed on his hip, not resting soundly but grinding against Dean with slow, deliberate rocking motions, fingers clenching, bunching the fabric of Dean’s sweatpants in a firm grip.

“Cas?” Dean mumbles. His brain’s not completely online yet, but his body’s getting up to speed pretty quick and he sighs reflexively at the attention, gently pushing back against the familiar hardness behind him – he was more than half-hard when he woke up too, and he’s getting all the way there in record time.

Dean lets out a bleary, contented noise when Cas’s hand slips across his stomach. He is totally on board for this, even if his mind’s still a little foggy, but it belatedly occurs to him that Cas never answered him, and there’s something off about that.

“Cas?” he tries again, suspicions confirmed when Cas inhales sharply at the sound of his name, abruptly slowing to a stop.

Cas pulls away and flops onto his back, not that he gets very far with his arm still pinned beneath Dean’s head. “Sorry,” he mutters, clearly awake now, scrubbing a hand across his face.

Dean doesn’t know what Cas is apologizing for – waking Dean up, the unintentional dry-humping, maybe both – but Dean isn’t complaining one bit about the proceedings. He just wants Cas to be, y’know, _conscious_.

Dean turns with him, twisting around as much as he can manage, enough to rest a hand on one of Cas’s wonderfully solid thighs and nuzzle against Cas’s cheek, murmuring into the scant space between them. “Where’re you going?”

He shifts to cup Cas’s erection through his pants, and the angle’s kind of awkward but it’s so fucking worth it, his own cock throbbing in sympathy at how _hard_ Cas is, straining the fabric against Dean’s fingers, hot beneath his palm. He pushes into Dean’s touch with a sigh that turns into a low, rumbling moan, tilting his head to let Dean’s lips brush against his jaw.

“Nice dream?” Dean drawls in Cas’s ear, smiling lazily.

Cas’s voice is strained when he replies, but so deep with arousal it gives Dean goosebumps. “Very.”

Dean doesn’t doubt it. “Tell me,” he breathes. It sounds pathetically desperate but he _is_ , he’s dying to know what got Cas going because it’s not often that Dean gets to see him like this, so worked up and wound tight like he could fall apart any second.

“I had you just like this,” Cas confesses, starting to curl towards Dean again, hand on Dean’s hip. Dean wishes he’d let his touch wander further, give Dean’s aching cock some relief. “Was inside you so deep.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks. That’s not much in the way of detail, but it’s more than enough for him to go on. He can picture it so easily and _goddamn_ does that sound like a fantastic idea, one that should be reality right this very second. It’s only been a few hours since the last time, but that’s not a deterrent at all. If anything, it only makes him crave it even more, the memory of how incredible it feels so inescapably fresh. “You wanna be inside me, Cas?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Cas says, raw and earnest in his need.

Dean hardly needs more convincing than that, groping around for the lube lost in the sheets, thanking gods he doesn’t believe in when he finds it right away. Impatient, he wastes no time in pulling Cas’s waistband out of the way, and slicks up Cas’s cock, taking a moment to touch him properly and savor the way Cas feels in his hand, flushed and leaking.

“C’mon,” he pleads, kicking off his own sleep pants and rolling more fully onto his side, reaching back for Cas and dragging him closer. “Get— just like this.”

For a moment, Cas hesitates. “I—shouldn’t we—?” he starts, suddenly sounding way too coherent for Dean’s tastes.

The sliver of logic Dean still has intact understands why Cas is holding back, so used to taking his time with Dean like this, opening him up nice and slow with his fingers and tongue, thorough and devastating until Dean’s nearly insane with anticipation.

But Dean’s already nearly insane with anticipation, just from this, and he needs Cas to give him what they both want. “Like this,” he repeats, insistent. “I can take it, I’m still—” he breaks off, not quite able to say it, cheeks getting warm. “I’ll be fine,” he says instead, pushing aside his embarrassment and focusing on some very recent, very _good_ memories. “Took such good care of me before,” he breathes. “Please, c’mon.”

He’s a little surprised he’s being so forthcoming, but he’s way too far gone to actually care, pleased with himself for that bit of ego-stroking – because as predicted, that finally gets Cas in gear and he moans in relief when Cas finally pushes into him, careful but undeterred.

“ _Jesus_ ,” Dean whines. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but the sensation is almost overwhelming, bright and sharp in a way it isn’t when they drag things out beforehand. “That’s it, Cas,” he adds when he remembers how to breath, making sure to be vocally enthusiastic, so Cas won’t interpret his broken gasp as anything other than pleasure. Because the last thing he wants is for Cas to stop. “Yeah, just like that.”

Cas doesn’t need much more encouragement, steadily picking up the pace until he’s got a real rhythm going, thrusts short but deep, unrelenting. He definitely seems to be enjoying himself, growling in Dean’s ear, mindlessly giving himself over to lust in a way he does too rarely, in Dean’s opinion. He wonders how long Cas was lying there hard and needy, how long his subconscious strung him out before he woke Dean and himself up.

“Feels good, huh?” Dean murmurs, quickly losing the upper hand of being the more composed one because it feels fucking amazing for him too: Cas pressed up behind him, angling his thrusts just so, strong hands arranging Dean’s body however he sees fit – not _un_ caring of Dean’s pleasure, of course, but unusually focused on his own, rolling his hips with rising urgency and speed, a display of uncontrolled passion that only fuels Dean’s own arousal.

Dean only gets an indecent groan from Cas in response, one he swiftly echoes when Cas’s cock slides inside him _just_ right. He idly strokes himself, unsurprised that he’s steadily reaching the edge, until Cas takes over, covering Dean’s hand and controlling his pace for a minute before replacing it altogether, thick fingers wrapping around Dean’s dick with just the right pressure, Dean’s free hand scrabbling at the sheets.

“You close?” Dean asks, and Cas hums an affirmative against his throat. “Me too.” Close is a generous way of describing the way he feels right now, teetering on the edge of climax and eager to go over it. But right now, he wants Cas to get there first. “C’mon, Cas, just… inside me, you can—” Dean breaks off on a choked moan. “I want it, _please_ , c’mon.”

He’s not usually fluent in the dirty talk, despite his bravado and tendency to run his mouth, but he might have to do it more often if this is the effect it has on Cas, scraping his teeth along his shoulder, driving into him harder and more sloppily than ever.

“Cas, please,” he continues. It’s easier to freely ask for it when he’s still half-drowsy from sleep and dazed from arousal. He knows he’ll be mortified later but for now all he wants is for Cas to fucking _do it_ , use Dean’s body for his pleasure and spill inside him, mark him up in the dirtiest, most intimate way possible.

Cas tenses for a second and Dean knows he’s about to get what he wants, whimpers in desperation when Cas starts to come. Dean shudders at the feeling of Cas’s cock pumping inside him, hot and wet, filthy and wrong and he fucking _loves it_ , needing only the barest touch of Cas’s hand before spilling over his fingers. Dean moans shamelessly and Cas does too, pleasure probably reignited by the sensation of Dean squeezing tight around him, still thrusting languidly and riding it out.

Almost too soon Cas withdraws, the two of them breathing heavily, Dean sore and used and deliriously happy about it. “Christ,” he groans, taking stock of his own come streaked on his stomach, Cas’s slowly leaking out of him. “You really love making a mess of me, huh?”

Cas hums, pressing his lips to the back of Dean’s neck. “You begged for it.”

“I—” Dean flushes, unprepared to have that moment of weakness thrown back at him so soon, but it’s less humiliating than he would’ve thought. He knows how good it feels to want Cas and be wanted by him; any potential shame is easily eclipsed by the swoop of renewed arousal in his stomach. Going for another round would probably be pushing it, at this point, but he’s not sure that would stop him.

Cas just chuckles and lets the moment pass. “If you’re thinking of showering, give me a few minutes first,” he murmurs, pulling Dean closer and slotting in more tightly behind him. “I’m not ready to let you go just yet.”

Dean’s stomach flips again, in a way that’s got absolutely nothing to do with base lust, the way it always does when Cas just comes right out with the sappy shit, honest and unselfconscious. “I guess I can wait a second,” he says, feigning indulgence. A shower might be nice, sure, but like hell is he getting up right now when he’s content and warm, wrapped in Cas’s embrace. “Twist my arm, why don’t ya,” he mumbles, as he lets himself drift for a minute, dozy and satisfied.

“You know,” Cas says after a few beats of silence, touch gentle on Dean’s skin, tracing patterns over his heart. “I dream about this, too.”

The words stoke a low-burning fire in Dean’s chest, one he can allow to grow when he’s safe and shut away with Cas like this, secure enough to admit his tender, hidden desires, knowing Cas feels the same.

“So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://sass-master-stina.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
